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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434428">Sweet Surrender</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowoline/pseuds/Cowoline'>Cowoline</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sweet aromas [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Romance, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:20:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowoline/pseuds/Cowoline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know he needs this sense of control for a reason, and if he needs it in order to feel at ease I’ll give it to him happily. But at least tonight I’ve proven to him that any power I surrender to him is only because I allow it. It is not something he takes - it’s something he is given."</p><p>Rating will change with chapter 2, when ready.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sweet aromas [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I walk into the room I rented at the last inn we’re likely to pass on our way to Baldur’s Gate. The room is dark, only lit by the fireplace, and the furniture is old. The bedlinen is threadbare, but at least it’s clean. In front of the fire is the bath I asked for - a suggestion of Gale’s that I have been dreaming of almost as much as he has. I release a deep sigh as I allow my backpack to fall to the floor and place the bottle of wine on the table next to the bath. I can’t wait to wash up properly and take a moment to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our trip through the underdark and to Moonrise Towers left us with as many questions as answers, and I feel the strain as we get closer to the coast. Astarion is particularly tense, though I don’t expect the others to have taken notice. Not that I blame him. The closer we get the greater the risk that Cazador will re-capture him, but a confrontation seems inevitable. As for myself, I’m looking forward to seeing my children, but I don’t know if it is wise given what is hunting us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shake my head. I wanted to let go of our problems, not dwell on them. My clothes fall to the floor and I release my long black hair from its ponytail. I step into the water, hissing at the heat from it, slowly getting used to it as I dive deeper into the water. I close my eyes as I go even lower, water covering my ears, and release a deep breath. I lie still, smiling to myself, as I listen to the water stir against the sides of the tub. The world seems to slip further away. I open my eyes to see a shadow looking back at me with red eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” I jump to sit, splashing water on the floor. Astarion, that smug bastard, laughs of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me you were frightened by little old me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off,” I grumble half-heartedly, as I lean back allowing myself to relax again. “What are you even doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Do I need an invitation to enter my own room and see my lover taking a bath?” He lets his fingers run through the water and up my arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ignore the question - because he has a point. “You startled me. I thought you were going to drink ‘the blade’ under the table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aah, I left that task in Minsc’s capable hands, but--” He brings forward another bottle from behind his back. “White, sweet and cold, just how you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile while taking the bottle. He is right of course. I saw it down stairs, but I decided I couldn’t afford it. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to ask where he got the coin for it. He has probably pickpocketed every poor sod we have passed since we first began travelling together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He begins undressing. “Now make some room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I thought it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> bath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles as his trousers get thrown on the bed alongside his doublet and shirt. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grin moving forward in the tub and he crawls in behind me. It’s a snug fit, but not uncomfortable and we just manage not to get water all over the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me to have the water blessed next time,” I tease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can be so cruel!” He fakes a gasp and leans in to kiss my neck, then guides me to lean back against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. “There. Much better than sitting alone in the dark, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice,” I hum turning my head  to kiss his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens and pours a glass of whitewine before giving it to me, then reaches for the cheap bottle of red wine I bought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not going to have any of the good wine?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too sweet for me, darling.” He takes a sip directly from the bottle of red and winches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chuckle. “As bad as the tiefling wine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This might actually be a little worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chuckle again, feeling a little sorry for him, and kiss his cheek. “My poor love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums as he turns his head to kiss my cheek. “I might need a palette cleanser later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose it’s the least I can do since you brought me wine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rumbles with appreciation, but says nothing. I take a sip of my wine and lean my head back, closing my eyes. We sit in silence for a while and it’s like a spell has been cast. For a moment I can allow myself to believe that our relationship is real and will actually go somewhere. Even if in reality I know that once all of this is over I will need to go my own way. That his attention is for his own amusement only, and not anything deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So deep in thought, my dear. Anything you’d like to share?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing.” I smile and set down the empty wine glass and reach for the sponge and soap, beginning to wash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hurt. Here I thought you trusted me with all your delicious secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, if he insists. “I just wonder just how much you say is real and how much is manipulation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I make sure to keep my voice calm and void of any accusation. I’m not angry. It’s been clear from the beginning how he is. Most of the time I can tell, but then there are moments--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- like now. I turn to look over my shoulder and where I expected anger or some flippant response, I find a more gentle look than I thought him capable of. His hands on my waist turn me around in the bath so that I face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to lie. We both know it’s true after all, but we also need to trust each other. Infighting makes us weak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sure my jaw ended somewhere in the underdark just now. His moments of clarity and rational thinking are few and far between. Just as well I find myself tongue tied, because I don’t want to interrupt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offers a small smile as he puts his hand on my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you trust nothing else, then please, trust what I say now. This… is a gift. Not just that you have allowed me to drink from you, but that you, despite everything, still trust me.” He leans forward, his lips almost touching mine. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are a gift, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘My love’, ‘my dear’, ‘darling’, endearments he uses so often and so flippantly they have begun to mean nothing. Yet, somehow this time seems different. The tenderness of his words, the softness of his kiss speaks of emotion rather than passion. I lean into the kiss and he deepens it, his arms pressing me closer to him. This is one of the rare occasions where I doubt his sincerity, and not because he seems insincere - but for the fact that he appears and sounds completely honest. He pulls me even closer, so I’m straddling his lap, and I run my fingers through his white hair. My other hand reaches for the sponge - still soapy, thankfully, as I have no idea where the soap went. I begin to wash his neck and chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to wash your hair,” I say with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you telling me I’m dirty?” His mock offense barely conceals his smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lean forward to kiss him. “In so many ways, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins as he leans into the kiss. His tongue brushes against mine and my breath gets uneven while his hands slide up my sides. The soapy water makes his touch even smoother than usual as my heartbeat rises. I break the kiss, but he continues kissing down my throat. I manage to push myself away and he gives me a curious look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s switch places so I can wash your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain in his eyes is brief, but pronounced. I know he doesn’t want me seeing his scars. I almost tell him not to worry about them, but the mere mention of them might cause the exact reaction I’m trying to avoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m quite capable of doing that myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No doubt.” I smile without giving away that I’m aware of his discomfort. “But you also like to be pampered, I suspect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is silent for a moment, considering my offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fiiiiiiiiiine,” he grumbles, showing far more displeasure than I think he actually feels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I get out of the tub and back in sitting behind him. I avoid looking at his scars, taking him by his shoulders and have him lean back against my chest. The gesture does what I hoped - he relaxes immediately. I begin soaking his hair, careful not to get any water in his face. Astarion closes his eyes with a pleasant sigh and I begin to wash and rinse his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile at seeing him so calm as I gently massage his scalp. While he often attempts to act carefree he is never quite at ease, and this moment warmths my heart more than what is wise. I rub his shoulders, which turns into a massage. He hums at first, then winches a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kiss his temple. “Say if I’m hurting you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it hurts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stop, but his hand grabs mine to prevent it from moving away. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I give a soundless giggle as I continue and he leans his head back with a sigh, his shoulders relaxing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re all knots. Surprising giving how limber you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you noticed.” The sound rumbling in his chest is close to a purr - a ferocious one, but still a purr.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has it been since you had a massage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I honestly can’t recall.” He leans forward - an absentminded reaction as to give me better access. It seems that, for now, he has forgotten about his scars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a bit I rise from the tub and he scowls over his shoulder. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To bed.” I smile innocently, but there is nothing innocent about the look he gives me in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dry myself off as I walk towards the bed, hearing Astarion leave the water behind me. As I lean my head to the side, to wring the water out of my hair with the towel, I feel him behind me - his lips kissing my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really are quite lovely, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is soft as he places the white wine and glasses on the table next to be. His arms wrap around me, feeling warmer than usual from the warm water. I turn in his arms and he starts kissing me - it’s deep and tender in a way that is almost unfamiliar. He guides me backwards toward the bed and down onto it. Pulling away slightly,  he smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile in return, acting oblivious. “So… what now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” He chuckles. “You know I’m beginning to suspect you pretend to be innocent and naive. What game are you playing exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tone is light and playful, but it does make one thing clear. As much as I am starting to understand him, he is learning more about me as well. Looking past my facade. And with each discovery we gain a new insight, vulnerability and disadvantage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I give him a daring look and he laughs as if intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astarion takes my wrist, placing them on each side of my head - his grib firm. He leans close to my ear, his hot breath traveling down the damp skin on my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Admit it, you want to surrender to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I defy him with a look, and though smiling, answer through gritted teeth. “Never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A challenge, how invigorating.” He brings his lips to my neck, his fangs gently caressing the skin. “I do so like spicy food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, if you’re going to use the same lines on me you use on Lae’zel, you might as well go down the hall and find her instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles as he sits up. “Now why would I settle on mediocrity, when I got the true prize right here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at him with mock offense. “Oh, so now I’m a prize? I do believe you’re losing your touch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That so?” The look in his eyes goes darker. “You’re still here, aren’t you? Naked. Underneath me. At my mercy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans in to kiss me and I let out a soft moan as if to surrender, only to flip him onto his back. He looks up at me with surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> easy.” I grin, celebrating my victory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you little--!” He pushes against me and we trumble onto the floor dragging the bedsheets and a glass with us in the process. The glass shatters, the sheet rips and the sound is </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Astarion and I both start laughing as we lay on the floor and both the room next to us and below us bangs and shouts for us to be quiet. Which, of course, only makes us laugh harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I press myself against Astarion’s side covering my face in my hands. I feel the pleasant rumble of his chest as he laughs. He then turns on his side wrapping his arms around me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do believe that our neighbours are displeased with the racket we’re making.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I giggle, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. “I think you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you say to give them even more noise to complain about?” His voice is low, deep and seductive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My arms go around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please.” I hum against his lips and he chuckles, enjoying this small victory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives me a passionate kiss as he rolls on top of me, his hands exploring. I react to his every touch and give soft moans as he kisses my neck - surrendering myself to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know he needs this sense of control for a reason, and if he needs it in order to feel at ease I’ll give it to him happily. But at least tonight I’ve proven to him that any power I surrender to him is only because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> allow it. It is not something he takes - it’s something he is given.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning: This has not been beta read, so forgive me any mistakes and typos.</p><p>If you have any prompts or ideas feel free to mention them in the comments :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Astarion’s lips, normally cool, feel warm and I find myself leaning deeper into the kiss - embracing him. He kisses me down my neck and body, his tongue tracing every line as his hands cup my breasts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I moan softly at his touch, my hands grasping at the floor as if to keep control. I feel a sharp pain in my palm and hiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls away, with a touch of concern in his expression, and I look at my hand. A shard of glass has burrowed itself in my palm and a steady stream of blood is traveling down my wrist and arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me.” His voice is soft, and void of the hunger I had expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits up, straddling me, and takes a gentle hold of my wrist - examining it closely, then removes the large shard with his teeth. I give another hiss, and he kisses the wound like it is meant as an apology. His tongue caresses my palm, I assume to get a taste of my blood, but then he pulls back - winching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought.” The comment is mostly to himself as he removes two smaller splinters, putting the shard and splinters up on the table. Then looks at me kissing my fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it feel better, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,yes. Thank you.” I feel myself blushing, and I’m not certain why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, he kisses my palm, more deeply, convincing me that this time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> tasting my blood. My heart should beat faster out of peril. There should be a sense of danger to it, but there isn’t. The emotions I do feel I dare not give name to, but the one I never feel - even at my most exposed - is fear. His lips and tongue continue to follow the trail of blood down my arm, when it stops, it turns to deep kisses up my shoulder, neck and finally my lips. I taste the faintest hint of blood still on his lips. It’s not unpleasant, but I’m still getting used to the idea of the metallic flavour being paired with… arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We better return to the bed. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt any further.” A sly grin forms on his lips. “Unintentionally anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks me up as if I weigh nothing. I’m always surprised by his strength. How easily he held me to the ground, when we first met. How he carried me the first night we were together. He lays me on the bed and smiles, giving me another kiss. His lips travel down my throat, my chest, my stomach--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow!” I look down at him with a scowl. He is grinning at me, his mouth still hovering just above the place on my stomach where he bit me! He places a light kiss on the same spot - that still stings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Liar,” I chuckle and he gives me a devious smile.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can feel his wicked chuckle against my skin as his lips travel lower. My body tenses as I feel his kisses and tongue against the skin of my abdomen traveling towards my inner thigh. I bite my  lip and grab the pillow in anticipation. I feel a lick between my folds and I arch my back with a moan. How am I already this turned on? He laughs with delight, the sound resonating all the way to my core, but he doesn’t touch me. Fingers slide across my folds not quite touching as his nibbles and licks. I bite my lip harder tasting the faintest hint of blood, then I feel his thumb caressing my clit in circular motion. I gasp as my back archers, the pleasure building quickly. I ache for him inside me, I want more of this, but I won’t ask - he will mistake it for begging. My breaths get deeper, my head turning to the side as I press myself against him. I feel release is close-- then he stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look up at him and he grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not quite yet, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets to his knees and both his hands start to caress my breasts. His thumbs delicately twirls around my nipples. I close my eyes enjoying the sensation and as I feel the bed shift, his hot breath is against my breast instead. My fingers dig into his still damp curls encouraging and guiding him as I moan and sigh. As if meant as a reward he hums and I feel the head of his length pressed against my clit. Rubbing up and down makes the pressure build again. It feels so good, but I don’t let the words slip. He is cocky enough as it is. Despite my efforts a passionate moan escapes my lips and he stops. I try to suppress a whine as he sits up with that infuriating smug expression on his face. He presses the head against my entrance. Circling, applying only light pressure and the ache in me continues to build.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.” The words leave me of their own volition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I do enjoy it when you beg.” He hovers over me and kisses me, entering me with just the head. It feels wonderful and I want more. I feel his slow panting against my lips, and the impish tone in his voice as he continues; “ but you can be louder than that” is enough to drive me mad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I growl, wrapping my legs around his waist and grabbing his buttocks. I press him into me, but not so hard that he cannot stop it if he wishes. Despite my better judgement I adore him, and he has had enough orders for a lifetime - I won’t force him to do anything. He kisses me deeply as he dives into me and his finger slips between my folds. I cry out as he does it. For a moment I feel full, I feel pleasure and lo-- no it can’t be. But I’m so close and I kiss him desperately, not wanting him to stop, but not wanting it to end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls away, out and his touch stops. I could weep in frustration at this point. He places his knees on each side of my shoulders, slowly stroking himself, and with such a happy, annoying, frustrating look on his face I feel a desire to choke him. Not really, but -- Argh!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, don’t you think you should thank me for all that I’m doing for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks to his cock, licking his lips with expectation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an ass.” I growl and he laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if that’s how he wants it. He yelps as I grab his buttocks with more force this time, my nails leaving marks on his skin. The look of annoyance disappears from his features as I take the head into my mouth as he holds his length, and his head falls back. I can’t help but wonder if he has experience with other tiefling lovers than myself, but knowing the circles he is known in back in Baldur’s Gate I’m guessing not. Which is an advantage. As he moans softly while my tongue swirls around the head, my tail slips between my own folds. I’m careful not to moan, to not give anything away. He jerks his hips back and forth ever so slightly, and I’m satisfied with how wet the tip of my tail is. Swiftly, but carefully I insert my tail between how buttocks and his eyes shoot up with a moan of pleasure and shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the--” he turns his head looking over his shoulder, flustered. “You little devil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t tell if he is aroused or annoyed, but knowing him it could be both. I rub my tail against the wall and he moans, this time only in pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can always stop.” I grin and he looks down at me, amused, but with a hint of discontent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you when to stop, you disobedient little pup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laugh and take him into my mouth again. I don’t push or go any further than this. I know how he reacts if his control is challenged too much. What I don’t know is what feelings it might provoke if I go further - and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or hurt him. From the sounds he makes he is genuinely enjoying himself, but as I feel his cock getting harder in my mouth he stops and pulls out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s-- aaah -- enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stop everything immediately and remove my hands and my tail. Astarion’s eyes are hazed as he looks at me and for a moment he strokes my cheek. He moves down a bit, straddling my lower waist. With one hand he reaches for the wine and for with the other he makes me sit. He places a hand behind my neck and kisses me deeply, tasting every inch of me. When he pulls away his brow rests against mine for a moment - something he has never done before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives me the wine. “Here, darling, you should enjoy this while it’s still cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile while taking the wine and drinking three large gulps. It’s sweet and aromatic. I hand it back to him and lay back down, closing my eyes still smiling. I yelp as I feel the cold liquid between my breasts and down towards my navel. Astarion winks and places the wine on the table, before licking every drop of it off my body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought the wine was too sweet for you.” I sigh in pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is. Just like you.” There is a hint of mocking in his voice as when he calls me ‘sweetheart’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes his ways down to my folds where his tongue begins to pleasure me, this time without the teasing. I feel myself quickly surrendering to the sensation and his fingers enter me as well. When I finally near my climax I lose any control over myself, quivering, moving and making sounds I have no control over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Astarion!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never use names during sex, but then again I’m not usually loud either. Yet somewhere in my hazed mind, I know how close it is to a love confession - and I’m terrified. I whimper as his tongue stills. A part of me wants to look down, but I fear what I might see in his eyes if I do. I feel the bed move again and I whimper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so close…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wither as I feel his body next to mine desperate for release. He begins kissing my jawline and nips at my earlobe as his hand travels inside my thigh sending shivers through me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, love, give in.” His breath is hot against my skin and his fingers finally pick up where his wicked, manipulating, deceptive tongue left off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The  way my moan trembles, my arms wrap around him, nails biting at his flesh is embarrassing. I wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>give</span>
  </em>
  <span> him this surrender, but he is taking it. Every inch of me is his and somewhere in the back of my mind echoes warnings of caution. My legs move of their own volition, my breathing reduced to short, shallow gasps, while I grind myself against his fingers hoping this time I will finally find release. I release something akin to a sob into the crook of his neck, and I feel his teeth grazing mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time tonight I can hear the hunger in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lean my head back exposing my neck further. For moments he merely kisses it deeply, longingly even, as if teasing himself. My hips buck, my body trembles and I cry out in pleasure - and only then his teeth sink into my neck. I wrap myself tighter around him as I quiver from the aftermath. I let my hand slide down his stomach and I take a tender hold. He is still hard. My strokes are firmer as my grasp travels up his length than when it goes back down. He’s getting harder. He groans and his body tenses, before pulling away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astarion rests on his arms hovering above me. His muscles are tense, his fingers clawing at the sheets and his eyes shut tight. His breathing is ragged, and I can see him struggling for control, and I still for a moment. A drop of my blood travels from the crook of his mouth and down his chin. I begin pleasing him again as I lick off my own blood from his chin and follow the path until my lips are pressed against his. When he kisses me back it's feral and uncontrolled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles, breaking the kiss, the gaze from his red eyes meeting mine. “I cannot always tell if you are brave or foolish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably a bit of both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head in amusement he reaches for my hips adjusting their position as he inserts himself. I close my eyes with a moan. Everything is still so tender, and the slightest touch feels like too much. But having him this close as he embraces and kisses me is… wonderful. The usual distance that I have always felt before seems less present this time. It’s probably my imagination. It must be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Words I will not allow myself to say, barely think, lingers on my lips. ‘I love you’ threatens to burst from me and I fear it. I doubt Astarion would leave or even react much if they did. He would either ignore it, say ‘I know you do’ or worse - he would repeat the words back to me without meaning them. I want to believe he would never be heartless enough to do the latter, but I also know he will do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to survive - and at the moment sticking with me is his best means of doing that. So I keep the sentimentality of my naive little heart locked away. This irrational passion and fondness grown out of compassion in a foolishly short amount of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blink and look into his eyes, as he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “You vanished for a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grin. “Oh, I forgot, that’s what you normally do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only because I need to control myself. Or did you have a sudden urge to drain me of blood?” He says it like he is kidding, but I can tell by the look in his eyes he is surging for an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grin, not letting any of my true emotions shine through, and kiss him as I flip him over on his back. He kisses me back with renewed fever as his pace quickens. Gripping my hips, his every thrust meeting mine. It’s too much too soon, yet I fall apart. I faintly recognize the sound of a broom banging against a ceiling, but I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Astarion breaks the kiss with a cry of his own, his erratic movements coming to a halt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My eyes open and I lay with my back towards the window and face the door. I can tell from the ambiance in the room that the sun is only just about to rise. I don’t want to turn. I know he won’t be there like so many nights before. Proof that he only comes to me because it entertains him, gives him some sort of influence over me, and that in truth I mean nothing to him. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> this, so why do I let myself be swept into this again and again? And why does it bother me? I was looking for comfort, not love. Understanding, not respect. Amusement, not commitment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I release a sigh and sit up, when I feel a hand on my waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely you’re not getting up just yet, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turn my head in surprise and see Astarion still in bed, his eyes closed as his head rests on the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls me back onto the bed with a gentle motion. “We should rest while we still can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lay down not saying a word. He doesn’t pull me closer or even opens his eyes to look at me, but he stays and keeps resting his hand on my waist.</span>
</p>
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